Dirty Duelling
by kquail
Summary: The Pharaoh finally responds to one of Kaiba's late-night messages inviting him to duel. Prideshipping, puzzleshipping, polyamory. ** A bit of silliness. Complete. **
1. Chapter 1

It was an odd message that the Pharaoh had received from Seto Kaiba that afternoon, cryptic enough to induce him to actually read the thing for once, instead of groaning at the sight of it and ignoring his phone for the next few hours.

Usually the messages he sent were so bloody predictable, and he always wanted to duel at the most inconvenient times. Granted, often the Pharaoh suspected Seto was drunk; the first message would come through at ten o'clock in the evening or so, and would be followed up by increasingly poorly spelled and nonsensical taunts until three in the morning, by which time he had presumably passed out. For someone who seemed so attached to his pride and dignity, he seemed awfully susceptible to the temptation of drunk-dialling his rival.

No, this message had a different tone to it. For starters, it was sent before seven o'clock, and didn't contain a single spelling mistake or predictive text mishap. When you typed out the word "deck" several times per paragraph, misspellings tended to be somewhat awkward. It also contained none of the usual insults, which was so surprising that the Pharaoh read it through multiple times, frowning to himself as he tried to work out what he must have missed.

He spent the rest of the evening thinking it over, quietly reading and rereading the message whenever he thought that Yuugi wasn't looking. He hummed quietly to himself as he stood up.

"You're not actually going to go, are you, Pharaoh?"

"Go… where?" _Smooth, Pharaoh, smooth._ He felt his cheeks visibly darken, even in the dim light of Yuugi's television as he played one of those video games he liked so much.

"You're not as subtle as you think, you know. I've seen you texting Kaiba all evening."

"I've not been-" The Pharaoh made a sort of offended scoffing sound that wasn't fooling anyone. "I haven't actually replied to him yet."

"Riiight," said Yuugi, rolling those enormous, adorable eyes of his. "So why have you been glued to your phone for the past two hours?"

Sighing, the Pharaoh tossed his phone to Yuugi, before flopping back down onto the bed in defeat. "Here, see for yourself. What do you think he means?"

"I thought you were the king of games. How hard can reading a text message be?"

"Ancient Egyptians didn't-" But the Pharaoh was interrupted by Yuugi's stifled laughter. He narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What's so funny?"

"Um, Pharaoh, I think he wants to take you out on a date."

Yuugi grinned at the Pharaoh's grimace as he passed back the phone.

"A date? As in, _that_ kind of date?" He scanned the message one more time, then shook his head. "No, Yuugi, I'm sure it's a duel he's looking for – what else could that 'D' in the message stand for?"

"Yes… Duel," said Yuugi, between chuckles poorly disguised behind his hand.

"You know what, Yuugi?" The Pharaoh rose decisively to his feet, pointing a dramatic finger at nothing in particular. "I was going to tell him that I was busy, but now I want to go just to prove you wrong. I don't think Seto has an ounce of tenderness in him. A date, indeed. Ridiculous! It has been a while since I last defeated him, though, and I could do with a good, hard duel."

As he turned to face Yuugi to say a resolute goodbye, his jacket billowed out behind him like a cape and he noticed the goosebumps prickling his exposed arms. Was he excited by the slim possibility that he was mistaken, or… "You should probably close that window while I'm out, Yuugi – it's rather draughty, and I wouldn't want you to catch cold."

Yuugi scrambled to shut the window, and caught himself looking wistfully outside into the cool darkness, wondering where Kaiba planned to take the Pharaoh. Truthfully, he was beginning to regret having teased him about Seto's message – he didn't much fancy curling up alone tonight. He'd grown so used to the Pharaoh being around that sleep didn't come easily without his reassuring warmth beside him in the single bed they shared. And sleep certainly wouldn't come easily knowing that that asshole _Seto Kaiba_ of all people was the one dragging his beloved away.

"What time will you be back, Pharaoh?"

"I'll only be out for as long as it takes to wipe the floor with him, Yuugi. I doubt he'd have the stamina to keep me up duelling _all_ night."

_He'll try to keep you up all night doing _something, Yuugi pouted to himself.

"I'll be home before morning, Yuugi," the Pharaoh said softly, before tapping out a quick message to Kaiba. "You know how much I…"

Yuugi's eyes widened further than the Pharaoh thought possible, glimmering as the boy blushed with a silly smile across his face. All, apparently, was forgiven as his fuzzy feelings towards the Pharaoh intensified. "I love you too, Pharaoh." He grinned and managed a playful wink. "Have fun on your date with Seto."

The Pharaoh glowered at Yuugi, and his fingers clenched tightly into fists. "It's _not_ a date!"

Yuugi could only laugh in response; while the Pharaoh clearly thought he was being firm and dignified, he came across more like a petulant child protesting that they had absolutely not made those handprints on the wall whilst smeared with incriminating, colourful spots of paint.

"Damn it, Yuugi." His phone bleeped with a response from Kaiba, telling him that a limo had been sent to collect him from the game shop. "I really mean it. We're just going to play Duel Monsters, okay?"

"I don't know why you're protesting quite this hard, Pharaoh. Whoever you choose to, ahem, _duel_… That's your business. As long as you're back to snuggle before morning, I really don't mind."

The Pharaoh wasn't sure why he was protesting so hard either. The whole purpose of going out and winning a duel against Seto was simply to prove that Yuugi had gotten the wrong end of the stick – and because damn it, a man has needs. Needs that can only be satisfied by a good game of…

_Oh no!_ The Pharaoh tried to hide the panic from his expression as the deck of Duel Monsters cards he'd been trying to imagine turned into Seto's smug face, towering above him as he tugged on the chain around the Pharaoh's neck, drawing him closer...

Yuugi yawned. "Well, your usual spot in the bed will be waiting for you. Just… take a shower if you end up duelling too vigorously, okay?"

Massaging his temples with his hands, the Pharaoh nodded, and quickly stepped outside before the warmth of his cheeks and the barely perceptible trickle of blood from his nostril gave him away.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a black limo already outside the game shop as the Pharaoh crept out into the cool night air, almost as if it had been waiting for him since before he'd even agreed to meet Seto. There was a light drizzle, but it wasn't nearly enough to constitute the cold shower he so desperately needed; he glanced over his shoulder towards Yuugi's window as he slipped inside, but from the flickering light in his bedroom, he guessed that Yuugi had gone back to his game.

He settled himself onto the white leather seat with a growing apprehension. The driver wordlessly pulled away, and all the Pharaoh could make out of his face were a pair of glasses glinting ominously in the streetlights as they drove towards the centre of Domino city.

"This better not be a trap, Kaiba," he muttered to himself.

The limo began to slow down on a brightly-lit street full of expensive bars and casinos. A tall, lean silhouette waited beneath one of the bright streetlights, gravity-defying coat rippling behind him in the sparkling drizzle. Kaiba reached out and opened the limo door.

"Pharaoh. I'm glad you came."

The Pharaoh pulled himself up and out of the car, carefully making sure he didn't accidentally brush up against Seto as he did. Despite the cold temperature and the rain, his skin was feeling distinctly warm. He certainly didn't need it to heat up any more.

"Let's do this, Kaiba," said the Pharaoh, fingers curling around his deck, as if to check that it was still there.

"Can I at least get you a drink first?" There was the beginnings of a smug smirk on Seto's lips. "After all, you know you'd never get into any of these bars without me, champion duellist or not."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" the Pharaoh asked, with a superior grin of his own. "Drunk or sober, you know that I'd still take you. Why draw it out?"

"Don't argue Pharaoh, or I might change my mind," said Kaiba, looking down at the Pharaoh. At a few inches over five feet, the Pharaoh was a perfect size for him to look down on; he liked that. "I'll buy you some of the most expensive cocktails in Domino city, while we sit on a private balcony in one of the most expensive bars. _Then_ we'll do it."

While he'd never been one to be impressed by such tacky displays of wealth, the Pharaoh certainly wasn't going to refuse. Perhaps a cocktail or two would give him time to relax a little and calm himself down before they duelled. He couldn't understand why his heart was beating quite so quickly, or why his skin felt so damn sensitive; even the tickle of the cool raindrops made him want to arch his back and purr like a cat. He was way beyond cold showers. He hoped the balcony Seto had mentioned would be dark; these trousers were far too tight to hide anything, even under his multiple studded belts.

Seto Kaiba walked slightly ahead, leading him towards the back entrance of a brightly-lit bar, guarded by a heavy-set bouncer with a shaved head. The Pharaoh watched nervously as the doorman immediately stepped aside at the mere sight of Kaiba, waving him through with a smile that looked extremely unnatural on his coarse features.

"And this must be your-"

"Guest, yes." Seto cut the doorman off quickly, perhaps with a pink tinge to his own cheeks. The Pharaoh couldn't quite tell.

He followed Kaiba up two flights of stairs to a quiet bar on the rooftop. Aside from the wall the staircase was built into and the ceiling, the whole room was built out of glass windows and sliding doors leading out onto secluded, covered balconies with patio heaters by the tables. There was nobody else around, except a smartly dressed, dashingly handsome bartender, who was already pouring two glasses of prosecco.

"Here," Kaiba said, gesturing towards one of the open patio doors. "You sit down, I'll join you in a moment."

The Pharaoh obliged, stepping gingerly out onto the balcony. His eyes widened as he noticed that there were little tealights burning on nearly every surface – the table, the floor, even the plant pots. There were just two chairs free of candles, rather too close together for the Pharaoh's liking; he pulled them slightly apart, then sat down and looked vacantly at the cityscape ahead.

At this point, he was almost certain that he'd been wrong earlier. Unless Kaiba had planned the most romantic duel ever played in the history of Duel Monsters, this was definitely a date. His heart fluttered foolishly at the thought, and that disturbing image from earlier returned to haunt his thoughts once more, only in slightly more detail this time. He wondered if the real Kaiba would want to dominate him as much as he did in the Pharaoh's daydreams.

"Pharaoh, is your – is your nose bleeding?"

Seto's deep voice pulled the Pharaoh out of his reverie, and he hastily brought the back of his hand to his nose. _Damn._ There was far too much blood to pass off as a simple trick of the light. "Uh, so it is," he acknowledged, and cleared his throat.

"Here." Kaiba passed him a tissue and turned his head away while the Pharaoh sheepishly dabbed away the bleeding.

The bartender followed shortly after, placing a silver tray down on the table between them with two glasses of sparkling wine and the rest of the bottle. As the Pharaoh looked more closely, he noticed rose petals floating in the bottom of the glasses. He thanked the bartender while Seto picked up his drink.

Unsure of what to do next, the Pharaoh's fingers curled around the delicate stem of his own glass. Seto raised his glass as if to make a toast, and said, "I'll have you one way or another, Pharaoh."

Oof. The exact opposite of what he needed to hear if he ever wanted his nose to stop bleeding. He surreptitiously dabbed at it again.

"We're talking about Duel Monsters, right?"

Seto raised an eyebrow. So the Pharaoh's attempt at feigning obtuseness had definitely failed, and they were not talking about Duel Monsters.

"All right, I have a proposition for you, Seto," said the Pharaoh, taking a sip from his glass. He didn't much care for the taste of sparkling wine, but even he had to admit that the rose was a wonderful touch.

"Oh?" Even though Kaiba was leaning towards the Pharaoh with a quizzical expression, he still managed to sound as though he didn't care about the proposition at all.

"Duel me tonight. If you win, well, you've finally defeated me. If you lose… You can take me in whatever way you see fit."

"I can't tell if that implies you want me to win or lose."

The Pharaoh paused for a moment. He hadn't really thought that one through; too much blood had been diverted away from his brain, as the growing bulge in his trousers could attest. He was trying to hide it by strategically positioning the arm he wasn't using to hold his glass, but with his permanently glowing cheeks and the suspicious trickles of blood from his nose, there was no way Seto hadn't clocked his arousal.

Kaiba's eyes narrowed. "You're such a dork." But he looked quite satisfied as he sipped on his wine. "Fine, I accept."

The Pharaoh nodded determinedly, while Seto continued to smirk.

"But I have a feeling, Pharaoh, that regardless of the outcome of our duel," he said, as his grin widened beneath infuriatingly self-satisfied eyes, "you're coming home with me."

Although he very much wanted to protest, the Pharaoh knew that Kaiba was probably right. He took a large gulp of wine, and watched Seto's smug face as he reached towards the Pharaoh's knee and gently traced a long, delicate finger along his thigh towards the aching tightness in his trousers.

The Pharaoh inhaled sharply and closed his eyes in an attempt to prevent his hips from twitching, but they seemed to move all of their own accord.

"Hmph, just as I thought." Seto's smile faded, and his mouth hung slightly open as his hand hesitated just by the buckle of the Pharaoh's lowermost belt. "But if I beat you in this state… It won't be a fair duel. You're far too distracted."

"What are you…" The sentence was supposed to end with "going to do about it?" perhaps with a suggestive expression on the Pharaoh's face, but he trailed off as Seto's fingers worked open his buckle and danced lightly over his crotch.

Kaiba knocked back the remainder of his drink, then slid out of his chair and knelt in front of the Pharaoh. Somehow, even though his head was below the Pharaoh's, he still managed to look down at him as he smiled, deftly opening the second buckle before moving onto his fly.

"I think we both know that there's only one way to clear your mind, don't we?"

"Is this… wise?" The Pharaoh glanced back at the bartender, who seemed quite busy polishing the already gleaming surface of the bar.

"My tips are so generous, he'd never tell," said Kaiba dismissively, teasing open his trousers. He pulled them down just enough to assess the bulge in all its glory through the Pharaoh's black boxers.

"Wait." The Pharaoh drank what remained in his glass, then quickly poured another, struggling to maintain an even rhythm of breathing as Seto's warm lips met his stomach just above the waistband of his underwear. He was too sober for… whatever this was.

Soft fingertips grazed at his skin as they tunnelled beneath the elastic of his boxers, pulling it slowly forward as Seto's mouth teased at him. He accidentally moaned aloud when Kaiba's cheek brushed against the head of his cock; it wasn't a manly or dignified noise by any stretch of the imagination, but nothing about this was dignified. He'd been lured out on a date under the false promise of a duel, and was now trembling at the sensation of his rival's breath on his nether regions.

He took another large gulp of wine, wondering idly if anyone would be able to see them from the adjacent buildings. The candlelight was bright enough that he could see almost as much as in daylight. He watched Kaiba's eyelashes flutter as his fringe tickled his stomach; the waistband of his boxers was nearly all the way down now, and he could feel a cold breeze on his bare skin.

The cold breeze was, however, no match for the intensity of his desire. Not that it mattered particularly, since almost as soon as his cock was exposed, he found it enveloped by Seto's mouth.

He squeezed the delicate glass tightly in one hand, trembling as he tried to bring its contents towards his mouth before he broke the damn thing. The other hand found its way to Seto's hair, grasped a tangle of it tightly, and pushed his head down further, until he heard him gag slightly.

He writhed and shuddered in that chair, biting his lip hard to stifle the moans that felt as though they were ringing out over the entire city. He opened his eyes briefly to look down at Kaiba; how he managed to look so superior and self-satisfied even on his knees with a dick in his mouth was quite beyond the Pharaoh.

Seto began to make a muffled sort of chuckling noise as the Pharaoh's cock pulsed in his mouth, tantalisingly close to orgasm, then drew back, wiped his face on the back of his hand and gave a derisive laugh as the Pharaoh watched, confused, flushed and panting.

"You know what, Pharaoh? I've changed my mind about one thing."

The Pharaoh tried to settle his helplessly twitching body as his mouth formed a silent "O" shape.

"I am going to let you duel in that state after all."

"Did you give yourself a disadvantage too, Kaiba?" The Pharaoh's voice was somewhat breathless, but he'd recovered just enough composure to make his quip while eying Seto's crotch.

"Shut up, dork." Kaiba pulled another tissue out of his pocket. "Your nose is bleeding again. What are you, a fucking anime character?"

The Pharaoh sipped at his drink and slowly put his clothes back in order, looking far too pleased with himself. He winced as he fastened his trousers; although they looked sexy as hell, they were entirely impractical for any situation where he might find himself getting aroused. Finally, he took the tissue from Kaiba and mopped up his nose. He might as well have just stuffed that damn tissue in his nostril and have done with it.

Seto topped up the Pharaoh's glass, before drinking the rest of the wine straight from the bottle, lounging decadently, sideways in his chair.

Ugh, why did he have to look so damn gorgeous? The Pharaoh was almost regretting challenging him to a duel now, wishing they could have just skipped straight to the bedroom. He pulled out his deck, as though to remind himself that a world existed outside his throbbing cock and Seto Kaiba draped irresistibly over a wooden chair.

He took another long swig from his glass, although by this point he already felt quite tipsy. Still, such a surreal evening seemed to demand a stiff drink or several. When his wine was gone, he put the glass down decisively on the table, and wafted his deck in Kaiba's direction.

"Don't you think it's time to-"

"Drink cocktails?" Seto knocked back the last of the wine from the bottle. "I thought you'd never ask."

The Pharaoh looked from Kaiba to his deck and back again. He narrowed his eyes. "You really are trying to get me drunk, aren't you?"

"No, I just like cocktails."

The Pharaoh's lips tried and failed to form many different words, but in the end the only one that came forth was, "What?"

"I just like cocktails," he repeated slowly. "They might look girly, but they're strong. And they taste good. Wait here while I get us a couple of Long Island Iced Teas." As he stood up, he chuckled to himself. "Besides, you didn't think you were going to get your gratification that easily, did you? I'm going to make you work for this duel, Pharaoh."


	3. Chapter 3

Several cocktails later, the balcony table was littered with empty glasses and damp paper umbrellas. It was difficult to tell who was more tipsy, Kaiba or the Pharoah – although the former had a distinct advantage purely due to his size. The drizzle seemed to have stopped for the time being, and the clouds had given way to reveal a bright, full moon and a pretty smattering of stars in the dark night sky. The tealights were beginning to burn out, one by one, slowly and subtly lowering the light levels on the balcony until the two men could barely see one another.

Their conversations had been a non-stop back and forth of teasing taunts, about Duel Monsters _and _other things, punctuated by occasional frantic kisses and wandering hands, until one of them pulled away and told the other, smirking, that they'd have to wait until after the duel.

Kaiba had lost count of the number of times he'd seen the Pharaoh dab at his nose when he thought he wasn't looking. He was a lot of things – pretty, lithe, intelligent, to name a few – but he had proven time and time again that subtle was not one of them.

"We'd better get down to it before you pass out from blood loss," said Kaiba eventually, appraising the number of glasses on the table. His head was swimming pleasantly, but he wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol, the Pharaoh, or the sweet, sweet taste of his impending victory.

"What do you mean?" The Pharaoh took a disappointing sip from the empty glass in his hand. "What happened to my Margarita?"

"You drank it. Along with the three you had before that one."

"All right," he said, pushing the glass back onto the table while pouting at it. He picked up his deck and began to shuffle clumsily. As he dropped his Kuriboh card perilously close to the flame of a tealight, he realised that those Margaritas, the Long Island Iced Tea, and the several other pretty drinks he'd forgotten the names of, had really gone to his head.

He was so far gone that for a fraction of a second he considered tossing his treasured deck aside, sweeping the empty glasses off the table and letting Seto have him there and then, all while declaring, "Fuck Duel Monsters!"

After that particular mental image and the deal they'd made, there was no way he could lose this duel. "It's time," he said, as he neatened up his stack of cards before holding them out to Kaiba to cut, "to duel."

Seto gave a firm nod, jerking his hands slightly in a poor attempt at covering up fumbling his shuffle.

They handed their decks to each other, cut them, and then Seto rose to his feet as they swapped back. "Come inside."

As soon as the Pharaoh stood up, it felt as though the effects of his drinks had increased ten-fold. He briefly wondered if Kaiba had spiked his drink with something, but when he added together all those cocktails he quickly acknowledged that this was, without question, all his own doing. He was nearly as sure of himself as ever, but this was his first time drinking and duelling. He hoped it wasn't anything like driving – he'd seen a lot of warnings about not mixing those.

They walked through to the interior of the bar, where the bartender seemed to be waiting for them. As soon as they set foot on the gleaming black granite floor tiles, he pulled a lever and all the tables and stools sank into the floor, providing the perfect amount of space for a duel.

"Your duel disks, Kaiba," said the bartender, gesturing in front of him.

Kaiba and the Pharaoh both walked, on slightly uncoordinated legs, over to the bar and picked up a duel disk each, before standing, facing each other, at opposite ends of the room.

The Pharaoh smiled to himself. Kaiba's hair was looking distinctly dishevelled, and there was a tiny bruise peeking out from under his upturned collar where he'd overenthusiastically bitten him in a moment of passion. His face was thoroughly flushed, and the serious, superior mask he always wore was beginning to crack. As he drew his hand, the Pharaoh noted that he was squinting at his cards in the manner of someone who was almost too drunk to see straight.

He drew his own hand, slowly and purposefully. It was a little dark in the bar, so he closed one eye to read the text on each card more clearly (because it was, of course, the low light making it difficult to read, and certainly nothing else) before giving up and thanking the Gods he knew this deck well enough not to have to bother reading the cards.

Kaiba narrowed his eyes. "Do you want to go first, Pharaoh, or shall I?"

The Pharaoh's head was cloudier than he wanted to admit. "Uh, go ahead, Kaiba," he said, wondering what exactly he was going to do with the cards he had drawn.

The duel proceeded in almost the exact same way as any other game of Duel Monsters, albeit with more than one instance of a dramatic draw going awry. The bartender thankfully caught one of Kaiba's prized Blue Eyes White Dragons as it flew across the room, and the Pharaoh seemed to have lost his usual ability to hold cards with just one or two fingers. His frustration grew each time he had to bend over to retrieve another card, while Kaiba's cheeks darkened at the sight of his tight trousers stretching over his behind.

But there were plenty of twists, "Oh no!"s and "Not so fast!"s to make up for their deficiencies in coordination, and the sheer enthusiasm in the volume of their voices as they tried to outmanoeuvre each other had even the bartender rosy-cheeked and dabbing at his nose.

"So, Pharaoh, how do you want me to screw you? At Duel Monsters, or…?"

"Hah, you'd better hold that thought for now," returned the Pharaoh as he slotted another card into his duel disk. "You might have to bend me over the table after all."

The bartender's eyebrows were raised so high they almost disappeared under his hairline as he listened to their taunts – they had started out tame enough, with comments more or less related to the game, but they were rapidly becoming nothing more than vulgar declarations of desire. He almost wished he'd made an audio recording of it for when his shift ended and he could have some private time.

The Pharaoh called his last attack, sending Seto's life points plummeting to zero, and grinned as he watched almost the entirety of Kaiba's admittedly limited emotional range flicker across his face, ending with a sort of speechless anger.

He gathered his cards and put them in the pocket of his jacket-cum-cloak, before draping it safely over the surface of the bar.

"Well then, Seto," he said, running a hand through his tousled, tangled highlights. "How are you going to 'screw me,' as you so eloquently put it?"

Kaiba was still speechless, but for another reason entirely now. He pulled off his sweeping leather jacket, slammed it to the ground, and moved towards the Pharaoh, who was preening and biting his lip as he teased at the hem of his tight black tank top.

"Oh, you are going to _pay_ for this, Pharaoh," said Kaiba, in a slightly choked-up voice.

"Whose nose is bleeding now?" was the only response he could find as Seto grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him every bit as roughly as the Pharaoh had hoped he would.


	4. Chapter 4

The bartender must have pushed the lever to make the furniture reappear while the Pharaoh was too busy melting into Kaiba's arms to notice; as Seto pushed him backwards, he found himself lying across a table which definitely hadn't been there while they were duelling. His legs were spread in the air with Kaiba pressed up between them, warm yet the very opposite of the soft comfort of Yuugi's body that he was accustomed to.

Even through the fabric of his trousers, he could feel Kaiba's bulge prodding him lightly in the ass as their hips moved together like frantic, drunken bunnies. He was so hard it was physically painful, and his belts were digging uncomfortably into the small of his back, where they'd been displaced. But the tension of being so close to being fucked yet knowing that this was probably the wrong time, wrong place, was too delicious to give up just yet.

"You did say that I might have to bend you over a table," snarled Kaiba, his breath rasping as he looked down on the writhing Pharaoh, whose tanned skin was glowing beautifully pink as beads of sweat formed on his forehead beneath untamed tendrils of blonde.

"And you did lose the duel, fair and square," agreed the Pharaoh. He glanced over towards the bartender, who had been very attentively rubbing the same pristinely sparkling glass for five straight minutes. "But perhaps we should take this elsewhere?"

Seto gave a derisive laugh. "Oh no, not just yet. I'm going to make you my bitch right here on this table… _then_ I'm going to take you home."

The Pharaoh damn near whimpered at those words; there was a small, damp patch in his boxers from all this anticipation, and he needed to find some way to stall before it was all over too quickly. "Aren't we going to need some lube? This isn't a bad yaoi manga." At least, he certainly hoped it wasn't.

The bartender finally placed the gleaming glass with the others, and cleared his throat. As if by magic, a shiny chrome lotion dispenser had appeared on the bar. Seto held out a hand, and the bartender threw it over with a knowing smile, perfectly aimed into Kaiba's palm. For a drunk man, the Pharaoh had to admit it was a fantastic catch.

"I told you my tips were generous," murmured Kaiba, placing the bottle on the table beside them.

"I'll just be heading out for a smoke break," said the bartender quietly, gesturing outside.

"That man doesn't even smoke. He won't be back until I'm done with you."

Fine, scratch that thing about not being impressed by tacky displays of wealth – this particular tacky display of wealth was music to the Pharaoh's ears. Finally, he could let himself relax into whatever Kaiba wanted to do, without worrying about being watched or listened in on by some random bartender. A hot bartender, but still.

The Pharaoh's arms were above his head, with the spikes in his wristbands catching slightly in his explosion of hair. He watched eagerly as Seto looked over his body, wondering where to begin. It looked more like he was plotting out some grand chess strategy than preparing to ravage someone, but it still somehow drove the Pharaoh wild with impatient lust. _Perhaps it's a compliment from Kaiba_, he thought, _to be treated like a sexy strategy game_.

But by this point, he was beyond any kind of reason – all he wanted was Kaiba's cock inside him.

Seto's long fingers traced over the Pharaoh's belt buckles and teased them open for the second time that evening, then he pulled up the tank top as far as it would go and kissed his nipples, each in turn, before nibbling at the left. His hand curled around the chain holding the millennium puzzle until his knuckles were white, then he tugged on it until the Pharaoh's lips smashed up against his. The frenzy of kisses that followed left both men breathless.

"Are you just going to lie there, Pharaoh?" asked Kaiba, when he finally had to admit defeat and withdraw for air. "Take off that tank top or I'm going to rip it off."

"I'd like to see you try," said the Pharaoh, with far more of a smirk than was reasonable for someone in his position.

With a grunt of determination, Kaiba grabbed a handful of the tank top in each hand and pulled as hard as he could; to both of their surprise, the fabric gave a satisfying rip as it tore all the way down, revealing most of the Pharaoh's chest. Seto ran his hands all over the warm, muscled skin before leaning down and stealing another bite of his left nipple, causing the Pharaoh to wince slightly at the sweet sting.

Seto's hands made surprisingly light work of undoing the Pharaoh's trousers, then pulling them down while he wriggled impatiently on the table beneath him. He paused briefly to stroke the quivering head beneath the Pharaoh's stretched boxers, then tugged those away too and grinned with satisfaction at how impossibly hard and flushed he found his cock.

With one hand, he deftly dispensed some lube and warmed it up between fingers and thumb, before gently rubbing it along the respectable length of the Pharaoh's shaft; the Pharaoh trembled on the table, half with cold as a breeze from the open door tickled his damp skin, and half with the agony of anticipating Kaiba's next touch.

"I never thought it would be so much fun to watch you squirm like this, Pharaoh."

But the Pharaoh was in no state to be putting words together into sentences. He watched helplessly as Kaiba unzipped his own trousers and pulled them down just far enough to let his dick spring out proudly from behind the waistband of his underwear, then he reached across for more lube.

"Let's see how much more I can make you squirm, shall we? You might have beat me at Duel Monsters, but I'm the one with the power now."

The Pharaoh felt the warm lube, then Seto's finger, as they made gentle contact with his asshole, all while he maintained a slow rhythm with his other hand. Even just that light touch had him moaning out loud in a voice even higher than Yuugi's; his eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed against the finger, willing Seto to just hurry up and get it inside him.

Kaiba gave him one finger, then two, and watched with satisfaction as the Pharaoh's face screwed up in agonising pleasure.

"More." The Pharaoh's voice was barely more than a hoarse, breathless whisper. "Please." He might have been embarrassed by the way that he was begging, had he been capable of thinking about anything else at that moment, but his brain was thoroughly addled with a potent mixture of cocktails and desire.

"No, Pharaoh, not now," he said, and withdrew both of his hands, leaving a powerful tingling sensation raging through the Pharaoh's entire body. He grabbed more lube, and applied it liberally to himself. "You've humiliated me enough times at Duel Monsters, and ignored enough of my messages asking for a rematch, and now I'm going to give you a taste of your own medicine." An oddly cruel laugh came from his smug grin. "It hurts, doesn't it, just how close you are?"

Nodding, with uneven, rough breaths, the Pharaoh said, "It's agony. Beautiful agony." Then he chuckled, in a tone to match Kaiba's. "Although… I'd wager nowhere near as agonising as losing your own tournament."

"Is this really the time to be bringing that up?" Kaiba sneered, pinching the tiniest bit of loose skin on the Pharaoh's thigh. He dragged the Pharaoh forward a few inches by pulling his legs, then pushed his well-lubricated dick into the hole that had been begging for it all evening; it took all of him right away, and the Pharaoh's blissful cries echoed throughout the room.

Seto had all the intention of following up with at least one decent comeback, among as many sneering taunts as he could fit between energetic thrusts, but the sensation of the Pharaoh's ass enveloping his cock almost made his knees buckle, and all that came out of his mouth instead was a chain of random euphoric noises.

The Pharaoh lay back as Seto fucked him like a rag doll, resting his ankles on Kaiba's shoulders and relishing the exquisite pain of having been brought so close to orgasm twice now in one night. He had to admit to himself that he was enjoying this date far more than he ever imagined he would; as he moved his hips in time with Kaiba's, he watched as the other man's face twisted in ecstasy, every so often emitting guttural, animal growls, and shivered all over.

Suddenly, Seto grabbed hold of his shoulders, digging his short nails deep into the flesh, and pulled the Pharaoh close to him. His teeth sank into the Pharaoh's neck as his cock pulsed, unleashing its load, and he made a very similar sort of sound to the one he reserved for winning at Duel Monsters – not that that was a sound the Pharaoh was overly familiar with.

As he pulled out, his fringe dripping with sweat and his usually pale cheeks bursting with colour, a thick trickle of his cum dribbled out of the Pharaoh's ass and down his leg. The Pharaoh was still agonisingly hard, and feeling the volume of semen dripping out of him only made him twitch and shiver all the more.

"Well, would you look at the time," said Kaiba, looking remarkably smug for someone who could barely stand. "It's time to… dress, so I can take you home and fuck you again."

"Ha ha, very funny," said the Pharaoh, rolling his eyes as he put his own feet on the floor and steadied himself on the table. He got himself dressed with as much dignity as he could muster, which, granted, was not a lot. He had to fasten his belts on the loosest hole just to avoid the pain of crushing his erection again, and his tank top remained in tatters. He wrapped his jacket around himself and fastened it up tightly, in case anyone saw them on their way home and asked awkward questions.

Almost as soon as the Pharaoh was decent again, the bartender returned and asked politely if they would like to order anything else to drink.

"I'll have one more Margarita," said the Pharaoh, wishing it was less obvious that he'd just been fucked silly. His hair was always a little on the crazy side, but it was all tangled and out of place, and some of it was greasy where Seto had grabbed hold of it with lube-covered fingers.

"I'll have the same, I suppose."

They sat and sipped on their Margaritas, and the Pharaoh furtively checked his phone. The night was surprisingly young, but he did have one message from Yuugi letting him know that he was going to sleep now, and that he couldn't wait to feel the Pharaoh's arms around him. He smiled at that; he couldn't wait to get home to Yuugi either, but first… there was still some business to settle.

"I can't stay out _all _night, Kaiba, but I'll stay out long enough for you to finish with me."

"I don't think I'll ever be finished with you, Pharaoh, not until I win a duel against you… but your point is taken. I guess that means it's time to… drink up and get in the limo then, dork."

"I think _you're_ probably the dork for making that joke for the third time in one evening." But the Pharaoh finished his drink anyway.

"Hmph, well, at least I don't get a nosebleed every five minutes when I'm turned on."

The Pharaoh instinctively reached for his nose, and wiped a significant trickle of blood onto his sleeve. Then he grinned at Seto, and laughed. "I think you'd better look in the mirror."


	5. Chapter 5

The limo ride to Kaiba's mansion was a somewhat awkward affair; the Pharaoh had prayed to the Gods that nobody would see them on their way out, and the Gods seemed to have smiled upon him this time, but as soon as they got into that car, Seto's hands _refused_ to stay away from him. Seto made polite meaningless chit-chat with the driver while stroking at the Pharaoh's thighs and teasing at the bulge between them, a sadistic grin on his face the whole time as he delighted at the other's embarrassment at having to bite his tongue and keep a straight face.

Kaiba certainly was playing a cruel game, but the Pharaoh would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying every second of it.

The rain seemed to have started again, and was pounding down so hard that as the limo pulled up into Kaiba's driveway, it almost looked as though they were driving through a river. The Pharaoh was secretly glad for a break from Kaiba's hands; as good as they felt, he needed to cool down a little, get himself in check. The chauffeur opened an umbrella as he stepped outside, then hurried round to the side to open the door for his passengers. Kaiba took the umbrella, then held his hand out to the Pharaoh.

A short dash later through the refreshing rain, they were inside and drying off. The Pharaoh removed his wet shoes as soon as he could, not wanting to dirty the carpet, then reluctantly peeled off his damp jacket.

"Seto?" A soft voice called out from the top of the grand, sweeping staircase in front of them. "Big brother?"

The Pharaoh froze, and looked wide-eyed at Kaiba, who for once was hiding his smirk behind his hand, trying to play innocent as his younger brother skipped down to meet them.

"Oh, you brought a guest."

Seto cleared his throat. "I thought you'd be asleep by now, Mokuba."

"I was waiting up for you, Seto. I get worried sometimes when you go out in such a hurry. I thought something might be wrong." Mokuba looked at the Pharaoh properly, and his eyes darkened in confusion, though there was a hint of a smile flickering across his lips. "What happened to your tank top, Pharaoh? Something _did_ happen, didn't it?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Mokuba," Seto cut in, massaging his temple with one hand. "Why don't you go get some popcorn or something and go back to whatever you were doing?"

"I'm not hungry," whined Mokuba, "and besides, why didn't you tell me you'd be bringing someone back?"

"I, uh, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything," said the Pharaoh, painfully aware of how uncharacteristically dishevelled he looked. It was a good job Mokuba wasn't the kind of person to jump to wild conclusions. "I just came to answer your brother's challenge to a duel."

"Oh please, both of you smell like a distillery – are you really going to duel in this state?"

"What are you insinuating, Mokuba?" said Seto, his arms folded. The threat in his voice might have held far more weight had he not hiccoughed loudly afterwards.

"I'll get you both some water, I suppose." Mokuba was still eyeing the Pharaoh's ripped clothes. "Maybe it would be better to _duel_ another time, when you're both a little more clear-headed?"

"I am perfectly clear-headed," protested the Pharaoh. He didn't like Mokuba's emphasis on the word duel. "It takes more than a few cocktails to get the better of the king of games."

Mokuba narrowed his eyes. "Alright then, tell me this: how many cards does pot of greed allow you to draw?" he asked, while thrusting three fingers towards the Pharaoh's face.

"Thr-oo. Of course."

"'Thr-oo' isn't a number, dork," said Seto smugly.

"I said two, damn it," said the Pharaoh, but the other two exchanged glances. "Seto's at least as drunk as I am. Look at him – he's got hiccoughs and everything."

"I rest my case," said Mokuba, before shaking his head and starting along the hallway. After a few paces he turned back around and added, "I'll bring you some water to your bedroom, okay?"

As soon as he'd turned away again, Seto gave the Pharaoh's ass a quick squeeze and nibbled on his ear; his breath tickled just the right part of his neck to bring all of his suppressed arousal back in one feverish surge. The Pharaoh opened his mouth and then closed it again; if Mokuba had turned around at that moment, the Kuriboh would really have been out of the bag.

"What are you doing?" the Pharaoh hissed, and Kaiba pinched his ass again in response.

"Just teasing you again. Come on… Let's get upstairs before Mokuba returns."

Kaiba led him up the grand staircase looking out over the reception room. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and countless expensive ornaments hanging from the walls. It seemed almost more extravagant than a Pharaoh's tomb full of riddles, traps, and cursed treasure.

Kaiba's bedroom was just down the hallway, and had a large, pristinely-made bed in the middle of the room, with a cuddly white dragon sitting on one of the pillows, facing the doorway as though eagerly awaiting its master. Seto dashed over to the bed and tossed the dragon unceremoniously onto the floor, while the Pharaoh tried not to smile at the thought of serious, superior Seto Kaiba snuggling up with it every night.

There were many other dragon-themed objects around the room; the longer the Pharaoh spent in there, the more he realised that this was essentially a shrine to Kaiba's beloved Blue Eyes White Dragon. He wondered what might be lurking in the half-open drawers of the bedside table, but barely dared look.

After a quick glance around the bedroom, Seto walked back to the Pharaoh, who was lingering nervously in the doorway, and took his hand with an unusual tenderness. He leaned down to kiss the Pharaoh's forehead, but was met by ravenous lips instead.

As their mouths worked together, the Pharaoh found himself pushed roughly against the bedroom door, causing an enormous slam to reverberate through the building. He felt Seto's lips curl into a grin against his, and a hand reached up and grabbed the chain around his neck.

"Come on, Pharaoh, it's time for bed."

Seto pulled on the chain, stepping purposefully back towards the bed; the Pharaoh had no choice but to follow.

"Get down," he purred, then pushed the Pharaoh down onto the blue and white covers.

The sheets were soft, but the bed itself was pleasantly firm. After his evening thus far, the Pharaoh was glad for its comfort and sank straight back into it, arms flailing above his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, but they quickly snapped open at the sensation of hands around his neck, pulling the chain up and over his tousled hair.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything to your puzzle… Keep your arms there."

The Pharaoh tilted his head just far back enough to see Seto wrapping the chain through the bars of his bed frame, then he felt the cold links of the chain nip at his skin.

"You're mine now, Pharaoh," he said, and got up onto the bed, positioning himself between the Pharaoh's legs.

A warm twinge flooded through his hips as he watched Kaiba make his plotting face again, hands outstretched indecisively as he worked out where to begin. The Pharaoh instinctively tried to reach towards his belt to hurry Seto along, but the restraint was surprisingly effective, and all he could do was watch Seto with wide-eyed anticipation.

Seto's fingers finally decided to get straight down to it and began opening his buckles and fly; memories of those same fingers on the candle-lit balcony and then on the bar table sent jolts of electricity all through the Pharaoh's body. He inhaled sharply at the exquisite tingle of Kaiba's touches.

Seto tugged slightly on his trousers, grinning in his own anticipation, but just as he bent down for a teasing kiss, there was a knock at the door.

"Don't-"

But the door was already halfway open by then, and Mokuba appeared with two glasses of water balanced on a silver tray.

"_Mokuba_! Why did you even knock if you were going to waltz right on in anyway?"

The teenager's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the tray in his haste to put it down. Then he cocked his head to one side and sighed, glaring at his brother.

"Oh come on, Seto. I _told_ you I was going to fetch some water… You could at least have waited five minutes. Just five minutes! Then I could have happily gone about my life without ever having walked in on this."

The Pharaoh averted his eyes, cheeks somehow redder than they had been all night. He would have moved to cover himself, but that damn restraint had him stuck for the time being. At least he no longer felt as though he was going to make a mess of his boxers before Seto even got around to touching him. The night certainly had been a rollercoaster in that respect.

"I… uh…" It was one of the few times the Pharaoh recalled seeing Seto truly speechless.

Mokuba covered his eyes with one hand. "Enjoy your _duel_, big brother."

"Every good duel begins with some light bondage," said Kaiba, causing both Mokuba and the Pharaoh to cringe painfully. If this was Kaiba's idea of making the situation less awkward, his social skills left much to be desired.

"I would like it on the record that I don't agree with that statement," the Pharaoh cut in, before resuming staring in shame at the dragon-shaped chalice on the bedside table.

"Big brother! Please, I don't want to know about your bondage kink any more than I wanted to find that Blue Eyes White Dragon dil-"

"Get out, then!"

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" He darted out of the door and shut it tightly behind him. Then his muffled voice added, gloatingly, "Oh, and by the way, subtlety? Neither of your strong points. I'm just surprised it's taken you this long to get round to it…"

Seto turned back to face the Pharaoh; both men wore the same rosy-cheeked expression of someone who had been called the fuck out and was trying to work out if their pride would allow them to embrace the situation regardless.

Seconds later, Seto had pounced on the Pharaoh and was covering him in furious kisses.


	6. Chapter 6

Still restrained, the Pharaoh watched as Seto drew back, his breathing heavy and uneven, and put himself between his thighs. His belts, trousers and boxers were strewn carelessly over the carpet, while the tatters of his tank top lay underneath him, crumpled and damp with sweat, after Seto had used an ivory dragon-handled knife to cut it off of him.

He took a moment to admire Seto's naked body – long, sinewy limbs, almost as pale as the Blue Eyes dragon itself, in perfect contrast with the flushed cheeks under his striking blue eyes. His hand pulled against the cool chain as it tried to reach out to catch one of the beads of sweat running over his chiselled torso. The Pharaoh idly wondered when Kaiba had time to work out, when he always seemed so busy with his latest card game contraption.

The sight of his nude body for the first time, combined with the ferocity of the man's kisses was almost too much for the Pharaoh to take.

"Please," he heard himself whine, "let me…"

But Kaiba only smirked in response, and traced light fingernails down the Pharaoh's chest. "I'll give you your gratification, Pharaoh, but not quite yet."

The Pharaoh nodded with ragged, moaning breaths. Patience. But Gods, his cock was aching – the most incredible, beautiful ache he'd ever experienced, but painful nonetheless.

Seto lowered his head, while his arms snaked their way under the Pharaoh's back. The Pharaoh gave a little shiver as he felt the other's warm breath just below his balls, quickly followed by hot, damp lips planting a flurry of kisses that ended up between his cheeks.

"Go-ods…"

He thought he heard Kaiba laugh to himself as his tongue began to tease at the Pharaoh's ass; he certainly felt the vibrations of Kaiba's voice. It was a beautiful sight to watch Seto's scruffy mop of hair between his legs, in front of the graceful curve of his back – that is, when he could manage more than two seconds without scrunching his eyes closed at the pleasure of it all.

"Where did you learn..." But the Pharaoh trailed off mid-sentence. Did it matter where he'd learned to eat ass like this? Or suck dick like he did back on the balcony? Not in this moment, he decided, not when he was reaping the glorious benefits of however the hell Kaiba had become so good at all this.

Seto pulled up for air, wiped his mouth on his hand and flashed the Pharaoh the smuggest smile he'd seen on his face to date, which, considering that this was _Kaiba_, was really quite a feat.

"We all have our secrets, Pharaoh," he said as he leaned over towards the bedside table and pulled out a jar of lube. Surprisingly, it didn't have anything relating to dragons on it.

The Pharaoh lay back to admire Seto's glistening body as he rubbed lube up and down his admittedly large shaft, interrupting the rhythm of his breathing with little growls as he did, then made sure both of his hands were well lubricated before turning his full attention back to the Pharaoh.

"Now," said Kaiba. "Now that you're mine – now that I've seen you beg for it – I'm going to make you cum."

He easily slid one finger into the Pharaoh's ass with one hand, while slowly rubbing the other hand up and down the length of the Pharaoh's cock; he bent down and kissed a drop of precum as it blossomed from the head, and the Pharaoh whimpered, convulsing as jolts of pleasure tingled throughout his pelvis.

"Mor-oh Gods, yes!"

Kaiba's face remained as self-satisfied as ever as he appeased the Pharaoh with more fingers, but the glow from his cheeks at least made his expression warmer than usual. The Pharaoh's hips were twitching wildly beneath him, battling with the slow pace Kaiba had set with his hands, towards the orgasm he'd been denied all evening.

Kaiba slowly removed his fingers, then aligned himself with the Pharaoh's hips. "Damn it, if you want me to fuck you, you're going to have to hold still just for a moment."

Despite the intense surge of lust inspired by those words, the Pharaoh managed to control himself just long enough for Kaiba to penetrate him; both men moaned loudly in unison, and began a frantic rhythm with their hips, while Seto pumped at the Pharaoh's cock.

Finally the Pharaoh's dick pulsed in Seto's hand, and he damn near screamed as thick strings of cum shot over his tanned chest and over his shoulder into his tangled hair. _This_ was what he'd been waiting for. _This_ was what he'd desperately wanted for who knows how long without realising it. Years of frustration released in one, earth-shattering orgasm. He felt his eyelids flutter as his body shuddered and writhed onto Kaiba.

"Pharaoh…" Seto's voice seemed strangely vulnerable. If they weren't the only two people in the room, it would almost have sounded like someone else speaking. The Pharaoh felt nails dig into the flesh of his ass, and Kaiba began to spasm and shake inside him.

"Pharaoh, I…" Seto trailed off with a chain of incoherent growls. "I love you." He collapsed onto the Pharaoh's chest, kissing away the fluids as he did.

There was a long, heavy moment of silence while they both caught their breath and fell back down to reality, curled up in one another's arms.

"Uh, what was that, Kaiba?"

"What was… what?" His cheeks were a deep red, but his expression was defiant.

"Your voice is catching in your throat like it did when I summoned Exodia." The Pharaoh laughed, but Seto seemed to shrink into the sheets instead of coming back with his own barb, and the Pharaoh sighed softly to himself. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe you should leave," said Kaiba, extricating his long arm from beneath the Pharaoh before rolling over.

"In this state?" The Pharaoh tried to comb through a tuft of purple hair with his fingers, but they quickly got caught in a sticky, tangled knot.

"I _suppose_ you could take a shower first."

The Pharaoh felt his heart sinking. He didn't know what he was expecting from this liaison, but this wasn't it. The euphoria of flirting with suppressed desire had been replaced by a sort of empty disappointment.

"I…" The Pharaoh felt his own voice catch in his throat now. He almost hated himself for what he was going to say next. "I had a good time tonight. If you ever want another duel over cocktails, well… I won't say no."

Seto sat himself upright, glaring in the Pharaoh's general direction. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it means?" He slid himself off the bed and bent down to gather his clothes. He was starting to feel very exposed, and Kaiba's piercing gaze wasn't helping.

"Hmph," Seto grunted, watching the Pharaoh awkwardly pull clothes on as quickly as he could manage. "Why is it that no matter _how_ I try to beat you, you always manage to come out on top?"

"I don't think-" _I was on top for any of that_, the sentence was going to go, but this time the Pharaoh had the sense to keep the words to himself.

"Damn you. I wish you'd never come."

The Pharaoh buttoned up his fly, but left the belts for the time being. He cocked his head to one side, trying to keep his eyes from roaming all over that perfect body curled up grumpily on the creased sheets in front of him.

"You said-"

"We both know what I said."

Nodding, the Pharaoh admitted, "Yes, that's true. It was just… unexpected, that's all."

Seto sat up and pulled the covers over his legs. His head was bowed, and his fingers were hard at work smoothing out every last fibre of the soft blanket cocooning him.

"What did you expect?" he asked softly.

This gentler form of his voice would take some getting used to; it seemed to catch the Pharaoh off guard every time.

"I don't know." The Pharaoh chuckled, still only half dressed. "I thought you wanted to duel. I thought you _always_ wanted to duel. That's what you fill my inbox with, anyway – that, and every drunkenly-misspelled taunt you can think of."

Seto's head seemed to sink even further down. "Yes, well. I suppose it should have been obvious that there was a reason that _you_ were always on the receiving end of those messages. You occupied my thoughts far more than you had any right to, and when I'd had a few drinks…" He paused, then finally brought his eyes up to meet the Pharaoh's quizzical gaze. "Today I finally admitted to myself what I'd felt for all this time, and messaged you when I was sober for once. I never thought you'd actually reply."

The Pharaoh stepped towards Seto, then sat down at the end of the bed, at what he hoped was a respectful distance. "As soon as I realised I had, uh, _miscalculated_, I thought you just wanted sex." At Kaiba's raised eyebrow, he quickly added, "Not, of course, that I took issue with that. You are…" He trailed off, but his eyes ran hungrily over Seto's exposed chest.

"Look, I won't tell anyone about tonight if you don't." He saw the Pharaoh's mouth open, but cut him off. "It shouldn't be hard to keep Mokuba quiet, either. I'll just bribe him, or threaten to have him kidnapped or something."

The Pharaoh had to smile at that. The real Kaiba was starting to come back.

"That won't be necessary. I'm not em – well, I'm a little embarrassed, but not for the reason you think." He gave a wry smile. "I was so adamant to prove to Yuugi that we were _duelling_, not dating, that it's going to hurt when I get back and he greets me with _I told you so_."

"Yuugi read the message I sent?" Seto asked quietly, and the Pharaoh wasn't sure if the tone of his voice signified confusion or danger. Perhaps the latter, if the lines in his brow were anything to go by.

"Could I maybe have that sh-" The Pharaoh quickly stopped talking at Seto's glare. "Look, sometimes I don't understand your modern-day slang. I thought that 'D' stood for duel, but I have seen – multiple times – tonight that I was quite mistaken."

Seto's resolve at being mad at the Pharaoh finally broke, and he laughed. "I have to admit, that's pretty funny. You really are a dork."

"Well, after what you said earlier, perhaps that says more about you."

"Let's just get ourselves cleaned up," huffed Seto, but the Pharaoh noted there was a new sparkle to his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

The shower was just across the corridor, a large wetroom attached to a gleaming, modern bathroom with white tiled walls and a pale, sparkly blue floor. Seto had grabbed a couple of towels, before ushering the Pharaoh through the door and locking it carefully behind them, after dashing through the corridor with one towel over his crotch and the other barely covering his ass.

"Nice colour scheme," remarked the Pharaoh, pulling his trousers back down and draping them, neatly folded, over the side of the bathtub.

There was a distinct pink tinge to Kaiba's ears, but he said nothing in response. He set the towels neatly outside the shower, then turned it on and climbed inside. The Pharaoh waited patiently outside as steam began to fill the room, until Seto poked his head around the doorway.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He smirked, and reached out to a particularly sticky clump of the Pharaoh's hair. "Since I'm the one who did this to you, it's only fair that I help you clean up."

Gingerly, the Pharaoh stepped forward. The steam and heat from the water was already starting to make him feel dizzy – or was that just the effect of the streams of water dripping over Kaiba's body, accentuating every angle? He gave an involuntary shiver as Seto's damp fingers ran down his arms and drew him into the hot water.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I can't read you right now, Kaiba." He closed his eyes and allowed the warm water from the showerhead on the ceiling to run all through his hair and over his face. It was exactly what his tired, aching body needed.

"What makes you say that?"

The Pharaoh felt a pair of hands running over his hair as it lay flat to his head. He opened his eyes, blinked away the water, and said, "I can't tell if I've upset you, or if you're just being Seto Kaiba."

"Hmph," came Kaiba's grumpy response. "What does that mean?"

"_That's_ what I mean," the Pharaoh said, grinning. "Are you offended, or is that just how you talk?"

The Pharaoh supposed that his raised eyebrow and the slight snarl of his lips meant that he was offended, but Seto only grunted in response, then reached for a bottle of shampoo. He seemed to squirt it into his hands and lather it up with such malice that the Pharaoh winced when he began to rub it into the matted purple hair clinging to his head and shoulders.

"How does your hair even work?" asked Seto, as he massaged the fruit-scented foam into it. "Does it just go poof as soon as it dries?"

"Pretty much." The Pharaoh had never really thought about it before, but now that he mentioned it, Seto barely looked any different with wet hair tumbling across his face whereas he could almost have passed for an entirely different person.

Kaiba washed the shampoo carefully out of the Pharaoh's hair, making sure not to get a single drop in his eyes. It was jarring to have Seto Kaiba of all people being so gentle with him, but after the night they'd had it was just what the Pharaoh needed. He stepped forward and Kaiba's arms wrapped all the way around him. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he rested his head on Seto's chest, closed his eyes again, and just appreciated the hot streams of water flowing between their pressed-together bodies.

A short while later, Seto rubbed some conditioner into the Pharaoh's hair and combed it through; the Pharaoh could have fallen asleep on his feet, leaning into the other man's arms as he massaged his head – that is, if a renewed sense of desire hadn't crept up on him so quickly.

He felt Seto's chest shake as a derisive chuckle reached his ears. He looked up to meet Kaiba's smug gaze.

"I think, Pharaoh, it's late…" He stroked one of the soft blonde highlights and traced a finger down the Pharaoh's cheek until it reached the bottom of his chin. Narrowing his eyes as he looked over the Pharaoh's flushed body, he said, "I can see how much you want more, but I suppose I'm just going to have to make you wait."

"Wait? Until…?"

"Next time I invite you for a duel over cocktails, of course." He put an uncharacteristically nervous hand behind his head. "Next time I'll skip the, uh, _modern-day slang_ though – I don't want you showing _all_ my messages to Yuugi."

"Kaiba, I-"

But Seto shook his head. "You don't have to say anything, especially if you don't mean it. I will admit, though, that even if those foolish words were spoken mid-orgasm, I did mean them." He made to turn off the shower, then stared at the droplets of red dripping onto the floor, blossoming outwards like ink. He gave a satisfied smile. "What's up Pharaoh, daydreaming about me having you up against the shower wall?"

"No comment."

The Pharaoh made a hasty exit from the shower, then went to wash his face in the sink. Seto followed him shortly afterwards and tossed him a towel.

"Wow," said Seto, watching as the Pharaoh thoroughly dried himself. "It really does go poof, doesn't it?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Pharaoh…? That you?" Through the darkness, the Pharaoh watched a half-asleep Yuugi reach out towards the thin air in the bed next to him.

"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you."

Maybe Mokuba was right – subtlety and stealth really weren't his strong points, especially at four in the morning when those cocktails were still noticeably pumping through his body.

"So?" Yuugi's voice was far too chirpy as he fumbled around for the light switch. "How was your _duel_?"

"Why does everyone keep saying it like that?" grumbled the Pharaoh, shielding his eyes as the bright bedside lamp flicked on.

"You've been out for hours, Pharaoh. You must have really _wiped the floor with him_."

"Stop making everything sound like a sexual innuendo!" The Pharaoh sat on the edge of the bed, flustered, while Yuugi sat up, grinning pointedly at him.

"Alright, alright," pouted Yuugi. "Are you coming to bed?"

The Pharaoh nodded, then undid his jacket and let it slip down his bare shoulders and back. Yuugi practically squealed, pointing an accusing finger at the distinct lack of black tank top. Blushing, the Pharaoh tossed his jacket onto the desk chair, and rose to his feet to peel off the rest of his clothes.

"Fine, Yuugi – you win. You were right. We _did_ duel, but I must admit that was not the focus of the evening." He cleared his throat. "At all."

Despite the cosy pyjamas and his wide, innocent eyes, Yuugi managed to twist his lips into a smug smirk that could easily have rivalled Kaiba's.

"Why are you smiling like that, Yuugi? You don't even _like_ the guy that much."

"He can be an asshole, yes," admitted Yuugi, "but he's our _friend_ – an asshole that we've all come to know and love. Kind of. Perhaps _some_ more than others."

"Now you're being the asshole. It's stupid o'clock in the morning – can't a Pharaoh get some rest?"

Yuugi pulled up the duvet and patted the space next to him. The Pharaoh crawled into it and Yuugi instantly snuggled into him. He smiled, stroked the boy's wild purple hair, and wrapped protective arms around him.

"You do realise, Pharaoh, that I'm not going to let this go until you tell me what happened between the two of you?" Yuugi whispered into his chest. "So you might as well get it over with now." He drew back just far enough to meet the Pharaoh's eyes, before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He stopped suddenly. "Have you been drinking?"

"It turns out Seto is quite partial to cocktails. I, uh, may have indulged in a few myself."

"So he took you to a bar, did he? Was it fancy? Did he get all romantic? Granted, I can't imagine Kaiba doing that, but…"

The Pharaoh hesitated. Seto would probably have him murdered if he told Yuugi about all the candles, and the balcony, and… Oh Gods, the balcony. His teasing fingers. His warm mouth. Now those were memories a man could get lost in.

Yuugi calmly reached over his partner to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue. Dabbing at the Pharaoh's nose, he said, "That good, was it?"

Yuugi's words brought him crashing back down to reality. "Good. Yes. It was." He barely felt able to speak.

They were both silent for a moment. The Pharaoh scanned Yuugi's face, trying to work out what he might be thinking. Perhaps he was losing his touch, he thought. He couldn't read Yuugi that night either.

"I'm glad you had fun," said Yuugi, then kissed the Pharaoh again before turning the light back out.

There was a moment of silence.

"Yuugi?"

"What's up, Pharaoh?"

"I love you." He sighed, pulling Yuugi close, wrinkling his nose as a stray strand of blonde tickled him. "I'm so happy to have you in my arms again."

"It was a little lonely without you," Yuugi admitted sleepily. "The bed was unusually cold and spacious. It felt wrong."

"I just want you to know that although I enjoyed seeing Kaiba far more than I expected to – because who _would_ have expected-"

"I've had a bet on with Mokuba for months on when you'd finally have sex, Pharaoh." Yuugi cleared his throat. "But please, continue. Sorry."

"What I'm trying to say is, I don't know how my relationship with Seto will change as we move forward, but you will always be something special to me, aibou. Partner, soul mate, lover… I don't have the words to express what you are to me."

"If you think I'm jealous of Seto Kaiba," Yuugi began, with a derisive chuckle, "you're wrong." He lifted his head, and brushed the Pharaoh's soft highlights away from his face. "But it's nice to hear you say those things out loud all the same."

Smiling, the Pharaoh drew him closer, and their lips met in a flurry of sweet kisses. Yuugi's fingers wandered gently over the lean silhouette of the Pharaoh's body, as though reminding themselves of its shape. The kisses grew deeper. The Pharaoh's hands found their way inside Yuugi's pyjama top and up his back.

"I thought you wanted to rest?" came Yuugi's whispered words between kisses.

"I do." The Pharaoh pulled back for air. "I just… have a lot of feelings at the moment."

"Feelings?" Yuugi said. "You mean those _feelings_ that are poking against my leg?"

"_No_, Yuugi, although yes, perhaps I have a lot of those too," he said, trying not to spoil the moment by rolling his eyes. "All I want right now is to enjoy being close to you. 'Feelings' aside, I'm… almost overwhelmed by affection."

Yuugi's mouth nearly dropped at that. "Well, I suppose I'd better make the most of this before you go back to being serious and unemotional all the time."

"What does that mean?" the Pharaoh asked, before coming to the disturbing realisation that he was far more like Kaiba than he cared to admit.

But Yuugi just shushed him with more soft kisses, and the Pharaoh allowed himself to melt into his soul mate's embrace. Yuugi's touches were gentler, sweeter than Kaiba's, but they had their own kind of intensity. And, as much as the Pharaoh disliked the vulnerability in admitting it, the way that he and Yuugi knew each other having once shared a body meant that every moment they spent in bed was pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

When finally they settled down to sleep together, safe in each other's arms, the sun was already beginning to peek over the horizon and sneak in through the gap in the curtains, but both were so tired that it didn't matter.


End file.
